


let the waves up and take me down

by spinningincircles



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: 3x15 coda, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Introspection, M/M, happy-ish ending, post 3x15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:21:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23779813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/pseuds/spinningincircles
Summary: As he breaks the surface of the run-off pond, laying on the wet grass to just breathe for the first time in too long, all Eddie wants to do is stay there. Sink back into the damp earth and figure out this new, irreparable damage he’s going to have to live with. The coldness of death that will never let him get warm.
Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 393





	let the waves up and take me down

**Author's Note:**

> 3x15 coda
> 
> title from "into the ocean" by blue october

Eddie’s never felt so broken.

Not after any of his tours, not after Shannon left, not after she died, not after almost losing Buck and Chris to a watery hellscape.

He’s had devastation shoved at him, in him, around him more often than he cares to think about. It’s always the same after — a few weeks of therapy and he’s fine. The nightmares don’t stop for a while, but he can handle them at least.

But this time is different.

Because as much as he’s personally taunted death — running right up to the edge and narrowly escaping before the cold tendrils of nothingness drag him down — this time was way, way too close. Close enough that he swears he felt a vice-like grip on his ankle, icy to the touch, while he swam in that murky water. He’s sure he has the bruises to prove it.

As he breaks the surface of the run-off pond, laying on the wet grass to just breathe for the first time in too long, all Eddie wants to do is stay there. Sink back into the damp earth and figure out this new, irreparable damage he’s going to have to live with. The coldness of death that will never let him get warm.

But he can’t, not now. Not when he knows his team is probably thinking the worst. Not when he’s sure Buck is delirious with worry. He would be too, if Buck had been in the hole instead.

So he gets up, makes his legs work enough to carry him back to the truck, wades his way through the crowd of rescuers that had gathered to find him, gets back to his family. When they get to him, when he feels Buck’s hand in his and sees Bobby’s face etched with the deepest worry he’s ever seen, he finally lets some of the brokeness in, lets his body collapse into arms he knows will always catch him.

He saves face as much as he can while Hen and Chimney check him out, Buck at his side, still holding his hand. He’s shivering under three blankets and isn’t sure he’ll ever stop. He passes all the physical tests and is pretty sure he cracks a joke given the muffled laughter that registers in his water-addled brain. He leans into Buck’s side when his body starts to feel too heavy but, otherwise, does his best to make it seem like he knows he’ll be okay.

Maybe if he believes hard enough, he will be. He’ll manifest putting himself back together with something stronger than the paper clips and Scotch Tape currently keeping him from shattering.

They still make him go to the hospital to make extra sure that he’s, physically, okay. They give him the good pain killers, warn him not to exert himself too much until his ribs heal, and send him home with orders to not to move for at least 24 hours.

Buck’s still holding his hand, hasn’t let go, refuses to let go, and thank God too, because Eddie’s really not sure he’d survive that at the moment.

The drive back to Eddie’s house is quiet. Buck white-knuckles the steering wheel, but his grip on Eddie’s hand is gently firm. His thumb rubs over Eddie’s wrist, over his pulse point, reassuring both of them that his heart is still beating, blood is still flowing, even if Eddie feels like the pressure of all that movement could make him burst at any moment. Like his own body will be the thing to do him in, in the end.

He’s still shivering.

The house is so quiet and dark that Eddie almost feels like he’s underwater again. Buck turns on a lamp, casting a warm glow in the living room, dropping Eddie’s hand to get a glass of water from the kitchen and get Eddie’s meds in order.

Eddie holds his breath as Buck lets go, waiting to crash into nothingness.

He doesn’t. That’s promising. Vaguely.

He’s not sure how he gets his body to listen to him, but he quickly makes his way to Christopher’s room, chest tightening, hands going numb. He opens the door, sees brown curls splayed over his pillow, small arms clutching a stuffed Dalmatian to his chest (named Bucky, to everyone’s delight), Chris’s face free of worry or fear, the peace of a deep sleep.

He has no idea his dad almost didn’t come home today. And Eddie is going to have to be the one to tell him that.

The paper clips snap. The tape rips clean apart.

He gets the door closed before it all comes flooding out, like the water in the hole had seeped into him somehow and was trying to return to the earth. He slides down to the floor, body wracked with everything — sadness, anger, guilt, everything he felt when he was sure he wasn’t making it aboveground again. 

Buck is there in an instant, on the ground with him, holding him as he sobs, rubbing his back and kissing his hair and whispering, “It’s okay, you survived, you’re here, I’m here, Chris is here, we’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

He doesn’t know that for sure, really.

Eddie’s still shivering.

All he can do is let it all take over. He’s whispering, “I’m sorry”, into Buck’s neck over and over, hoping it’ll somehow be enough. Hoping Buck gets it. Hoping Chris gets it even as he sleeps. Hoping the universe gets it too. That as many times as he stared death in the face and laughed, he can’t do that anymore. Not when he has people, a family, to come back to. Not when it will make him feel like this every time he does, like parts of him are scattered everywhere between that hole and this hallway, and he’s not sure he’s ever going to get all of the pieces back.

Paper clips and tape won’t cut it anymore.

He’s breathing easier, the tears and apologies have stopped. They’re still on the ground, Buck holding him tight, but they both need this right now. Eddie knows Buck will be here in this spot forever if Eddie just asks.

Buck’s mantra is still going, but has changed to just “I love you” with a kiss on whatever part of Eddie’s head he can reach. It’s for both of their sakes — Eddie’s to hear those words and feel Buck’s love in every move and ministration, Buck’s to feel Eddie in his arms and know that he’s alive and whole.

Eddie finally shifts, moving his head from Buck’s shoulder to look him in the eyes, hand coming up to cup his cheek, wiping away stray tears. He looks at him and tries his best to tell him everything without telling him anything — that as much as he doesn’t think he can afford to be broken like this again, they both know that he’ll always cut the line if it means saving someone. That even if he cuts a hundred lines and is buried a hundred times, he will always, always fight to get back to him. To Chris. To this life that he’s built for himself with his bare hands and bare heart.

Buck stares right back at him, hand gripping Eddie’s wrist, and Eddie knows he gets it. Knows he gets it more than anyone else has or ever will.

It’s not until later, when they’ve made it to bed and Buck is sound asleep with his head on Eddie’s chest and their hands intertwined, that he notices he finally stopped shivering.

**Author's Note:**

> this episode absolutely ruined me you guys and i may not ever be over it
> 
> come yell about the love of my life eddie diaz on [tumblr](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/) with me!


End file.
